


Snow Rest For The Wicked

by MichellesPenScratchz



Series: My Preposterous Borderlands Extended Universe [6]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Post-Tales from the Borderlands, Pre-Borderlands 3, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichellesPenScratchz/pseuds/MichellesPenScratchz
Summary: A snowball fight with uncharacteristically high stakes.
Relationships: Rhys/Sasha (Borderlands)
Series: My Preposterous Borderlands Extended Universe [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873684
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Snow Rest For The Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [prompt](https://michellespensctratchz.tumblr.com/post/637629344554106880/december-prompts).

Sasha squealed with laughter as she ducked behind her cover. Rhys’ snowball exploded against it, missing her head by inches.

“Gonna go out on a limb and say you’ve done this before, huh Sash?!” he called out to her, readying his next snowball in his hands.

“Well, more with bullets than with snow!” she called back. “But the basic principle is the same! ”

“Don’t be so sure!” he laughed. “Aiming and pulling a trigger is one thing. But _I_ have one definite advantage for you to contend with.” He began to rear the snowball back in his cyber hand to hurl it at full velocity as soon as her head emerged.

“And what might that be?” she asked.

He activated his ECHO-Eye, searched for her body heat signature behind the snowbank, and opened his mouth to reply. She hadn’t waited for the reply. His readout showed him that she’d craned up and hurled the next snowball. It took him in the cyber shoulder, causing him to drop his own frosty projectile.

“Ooof!” He shook his head, his ECHO scan interrupted.

“Look, Rhys, you’re already a corporate CEO,” Sasha said, ducking back down again. “Maybe _don’t_ start monologuing about what you’re going to do before you do it? You know it’s a slippery slope from there!”

“Aww, c’mon–I had such a compelling ‘join me or die’ speech prepared, too,” he fake-whined.

“We could skip the speech and go right to the part where you surrender,” she suggested sweetly.

“And have it get out that the fearless leader who revived Atlas from rubble was bested by a simple weather pattern? Sasha, you know I only save this for special occasions, but…” He tossed back his head and broke into his best malicious laughter.

“Have it your way, bigshot” she said. “Was giving you a chance, but now we do this Pandoran style!”

She leapt over the snowbank. He could see now that she had the lower half of her snow parka hiked up like an apron, and in it she cradled an arsenal of pre-prepared snowballs.

His ECHO-Eye activated again. Time seemed to slow down as she charged towards him, her footfalls crunching into the snow like the moonshots that had once pelted Pandora from Helios. She reached into her stash. His scan estimated he had 3.4 seconds before she launched, and the shot was projected to take him square in the chest from where he now sat. He scurried to mash together another snowball in retaliation.

The first shot sailed over his head as he ducked down to fumble with the snow beneath him, but her shots continued to rain down. Some landed around him, and some took his shoulders and the top of his head.

His fingers curled around his one remaining hope, and he quickly and effectively picked a target. With only a few feet remaining between him and his approaching aggressor, he flung his snowball at Sasha’s vulnerable, parka-less midriff.

She grunted, and dropped all that remained in her snowball stash.

But she didn’t stop. Instead, she lowered her head like a charging bull, and tackled Rhys. They both went tumbling into the snow.

“Waitwaitwait! You’ve convinced me. We can talk about my–uh–unconditional surrender!” he squeaked.

She stared him down. “Try again.”

“Okay. As a condition of my otherwise-unconditional surrender, I agree to pull back my forces to the cabin, light the fireplace, let you choose the music we listen to, and share the blanket with you for the rest of the evening.”

A smile. “That’s better.”


End file.
